The Dark Side of Solitude
by Tokyo Nightingale
Summary: Aya's having trouble sleeping, and he's not the only one. A short, fluffy-ish one shot about how even assasins can take comfort in simple companionship. My first FFN fic, so be nice ^^


Author's Notes: Konnichiwa, minna-san ^.^ This is my first fic on FFN . please be nice ^^ A little one shot I wrote to combat insomnia one night . I don't do fan fictions as a general rule; just can't seem to finish them ^^ But this one was short enough that even I got it done . let me know what you think ^^ Arigatou!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz or the characters associated with it; suing is worthless, as I have no money ^^  
  
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After waking up for the seventh time in fifteen minutes, Aya finally reached the disgruntled conclusion that sleep had, once again, become an elusive impossibility for yet another night. Casting aside his tangled sheets with what was becoming hopeless irritation, he rolled in one fluid motion from the bed and onto his feet. Pulling a while button-up shirt around his shoulders to complete the jeans he hadn't bothered to remove the night before, he soundlessly left the room, heedless of the coldness biting into his bare feet.  
  
As he emerged into the hall, he was surprised to note a faint light threading its way up the stairs from the basement. That was strange. The apartments had only ever been the most desolate and silent of witnesses to his late-night marauding. Quietly, Aya crossed the hall and descended the slightly winding staircase.  
  
They were all down there, though Omi was the only one awake, and for a brief moment Aya wondered if he had missed some late-night emergency meeting. But no, the poses the other boys had adopted were too relaxed and casual for that. Yohji was sprawled in the room's only chair, asleep with his head bent against his neck and his arms dangling from the sides. His pack of cigarettes and lighter were on the table beside him, a half-smoked cigarette lying cold and forgotten in the ash tray. Omi was seated at one end of the couch, his legs curled up beneath him and his attention focused on the laptop he had precariously balanced on the armrest. Ken was stretched out on the rest of the couch, head resting on the arm pillowed across one of Omi's bent knees. The blanket that usually graced the back of the couch was spread across his sleeping form, the tv remote dangling loosely from his free hand as the now-unobserved television continued its late-night broadcast of an American soccer game on mute.  
  
Omi glanced up at the soft sound of footfalls on the stairs, smiling a silent greeting as Aya sat down on the last step.  
  
"What's going on?" Aya asked softly, indicating the others with an inclination of his head.  
  
"Mass insomnia," Omi responded, equally as soft. "Well, temporary insomnia, anyway," he amended with a faintly amused glance towards his sleeping comrades. "I came down here to work so my light wouldn't bother anyone. Ken came down for a glass of water and ended up staying to watch the game."  
  
"He came down to the basement for a glass of water?"  
  
Omi shrugged with a little smile. "Yohji came down a little while later, claiming he heard the television - which was on mute the entire time." He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Ken, to reach for his mug of hot chocolate. He winced faintly at the bitter taste, the liquid long since grown cold, but drank it anyway. "What's your excuse?" he asked, replacing the mug on the end table.  
  
"I couldn't sleep," Aya stated simply. Omi nodded, accepting the simple logic. His attention returned casually to the laptop - giving Aya the chance to leave if he chose to seek out the solitude he normally preferred. But Aya remained where he was, stretching out his long legs and bracing his elbows on the step above his perch as he leaned back.  
  
"And it doesn't bother you, everyone coming down here while you're trying to work?"  
  
Omi smiled again without looking up. "No. I don't mind the company; in fact, sometimes this place is almost unbearable without it. I guess we can all use the comfort of another presence sometimes, ne?"  
  
"Hai," Aya agreed softly, studying Yohji and Ken - both of whom had been unable to sleep in their warm, comfortable, dark rooms, but who had fallen asleep easily in the cold basement, crammed into the uncomfortable, well- worn furniture with the harsh glare of the television and the light above them and the irregular tapping of Omi's fingers on his keyboard. And Aya found himself wondering idly what had made him follow the light into the basement instead of heading for the darkened shop - his usual haunt. It was true that he didn't care for mundane conversation, didn't want to talk about the nightmares that had hounded him from his room. But no one was asking, everyone content to leave it at a search for a glass of water in the room farthest from the kitchen, or curiosity born from the late-night sounds of a muted television. Or puzzlement about a mysterious light on in the basement, where Omi was known to work late hours.  
  
With a sight of resignation, Aya leaned his head back and closed his eyes. After all, it didn't really matter, did it? Maybe they weren't exactly friends, but they were in this together, and there was a kind of comfort in that. It was something, and it was enough.  
  
When Manx let herself in through the basement door hours later, she was startled to find all four boys fast asleep - Aya sprawled out on the steps, Omi curled up against the armrest he had been using as a table. They hadn't even heard her enter.  
  
Smiling softly to herself in amusement, she crossed the room on stealthy cat-feet to take the remote gently from Ken's lax grip and turn off the television, which was halfway through a bad remake of The Little Shop of Horrors. she mused to herself, studying the innocent, peaceful expressions on their faces.   
  
She placed the remote and the assignment folder she'd brought on the table beside Omi's laptop, which had merrily been placing its screen saver for some time. "Good morning, angels," she murmured softly, heading for the door. "Charlie can wait until you awaken."  
  
She turned the light off on the way out.  
  
AN: So that's that . I think I gave them furniture they don't actually have. Blame everything on Hemmingway and last-minute English assignments ^^ Reviews - flames and all - are welcome! 


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